My mom and I have pretty similar taste now, as well as similar body types (short, small chest, thin), so she doesn't criticize my clothes. She does think I should wear more makeup sometimes, but she doesn't get into it very much. However, when I was a teenager, I had a penchant for a rather hippie-ish style, lots of long skirts and tunics. Mom thought I should wear shorter skirts, but I refused to wear anything above the knee. We had a pretty good relationship, even when I was a teenager (the long skirts were the extent of my teenage rebellion, I was sickeningly well-behaved ) and we used to joke that she was the only mother in America who tried to get her teenage daughter to wear shorter skirts.

For the OP, if you have a generally good relationship with your mom, maybe you could try having a heart-to-heart about how it hurts your feelings when she criticizes your style of dress. If you don't have that kind of relationship, and she's not extremely pushy about it, brushing the comments off and bean-dipping may be the way to go.

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My mom and I have pretty similar taste now, as well as similar body types (short, small chest, thin), so she doesn't criticize my clothes. She does think I should wear more makeup sometimes, but she doesn't get into it very much. However, when I was a teenager, I had a penchant for a rather hippie-ish style, lots of long skirts and tunics. Mom thought I should wear shorter skirts, but I refused to wear anything above the knee. We had a pretty good relationship, even when I was a teenager (the long skirts were the extent of my teenage rebellion, I was sickeningly well-behaved ) and we used to joke that she was the only mother in America who tried to get her teenage daughter to wear shorter skirts.

For the OP, if you have a generally good relationship with your mom, maybe you could try having a heart-to-heart about how it hurts your feelings when she criticizes your style of dress. If you don't have that kind of relationship, and she's not extremely pushy about it, brushing the comments off and bean-dipping may be the way to go.

It's gotten a lot better than it used to be. It was somewhat of a rough transition to adulthood in general. My mother tended to run a "children do not question their parents" type of household. She was quite shocked the first time I stood up to her - she had absolutely no idea that I even minded what she was doing and couldn't figure out why I was being so difficult all of a sudden. It took a couple of pretty good battles and making it very clear that, since I was an adult now, she could not simply override decisions she didn't like or pressure me into changing them.

Early on in my marriage, I told my mother no, without JADing. It was a first, and she was flabbergasted. Absolutely floored. The time before that, DH told her we couldn't give her a ride home from a wedding because we had plans. He failed to TELL me that, however, and she came to me and I said yes, although she originally had not planned on riding home with us. DH and I talked about it that night, after our failed night out, and made sure we never promised her anything again without mutual discussion between US. So, the next time, when she tried the 'toddler run around' again, and it failed, she was highly offended, angry, vituperative, and shocked. I'm not sure she ever really understood how her behavior was at fault, though. I think she truly believed that we were being disobliging to her, willfully. Why she expected me to be her 'servant', when she refused to help her own mother, is a mystery. But then, my mother is pretty much a narcissist; I have always said that she views the world through "ME colored lenses".

We had the clothing battle years earlier, which I shut down by pointing out that fashion be damned, my 135 lb body, 34D, hourglass body could not wear the same things her 120 lb. body, 32A and tiny behind could wear. That even if I could get her clothing ON me, I had a tiny waist, and she did not. I had a chest, and she did not. I had a behind, and she did not. Why on God's Green Earth would she expect me to be able to wear the same clothing she did and look anything but sack like? Did she think this was the 1920's and I should strap down the girls? Was she blind? I had to list every difference in extremely blunt detail to really get it through to her that we had *very different* bodies, and could not wear the same clothing, and that I didn't really care how fashionable my clothing was... She was in the fashion industry for most of her life, and cared about clothes and details and all that jazz. I could give a rat's patoot.

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...For the OP, if you have a generally good relationship with your mom, maybe you could try having a heart-to-heart about how it hurts your feelings when she criticizes your style of dress. If you don't have that kind of relationship, and she's not extremely pushy about it, brushing the comments off and bean-dipping may be the way to go.

That was what worked for me. During wedding planning for some reason I watched lots of wedding shows. One, a Bridezilla one I think, had a mother criticizing her daughter's nicely professionally done hair. Wasn't even criticizing the style, but just how limp and awful her hair looked.

Next time I saw mom, I told her that I was scared she would do the same thing, and that I would be totally crushed. She has pretty much laid off asking me to "do something" with my hair.

I will probably wait another 6 months, and when she starts in on my the hair of my then 3-years old, I will tell her that I never thought I was pretty, and that I never once heard a complement on my appearance, only criticisms of my hair. (true. I just realized it recently) I figure that will save my daughter from their comments.

I never remember battling with my mom, I think I always dressed pretty mainstream. With my own DD, our battles started when she was around 3. I think I was pushing more of the sporty look and she wanted to look like she just stepped out of a Laura Ashley catalog. By age 7 we had come to a detente and now we both now appreciate each others fashion advice.

I was thinking of this thread last night when she was doing some online shopping for a dress for a school dance. I noticed a big change in her normal style to more sexy than her dresses of the past. I chose to not comment on that and just give my input on which colors and cuts I thought would flatter her best and quality of the fabrics. Hopefully, I'll again remember this thread when the dress arrives and she is trying on the one with the uber short skirt and plunging neckline.

When I was a teenager it became clear to me Mom saw me as an extension of herself and took any deviation of style as a personal insult. As a result most of my High School pictures show a teenager dressed like a middle aged woman.

We finally hit upon a good code word though that helped many a difficult shopping trip. Whenever she held up something she just loooved but wasn't quite for me I would say "that would look great on you!" with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. The first time she looked at me askance for a second before bursting into laughter and said "but not so much for you then?" From then on everything was much smoother and we still use it often. It's actually really helped us learn how to pick out stuff we personally hate but know the other one will love.

The worst run-in about clothes came from my father. When I was 12 the cool kids at school wore mis-matched socks. These were of a very particular kind.

The socks were 'poodle socks'. They were inexpensive, sold in bags of three or four pairs and came in a great variety of colors. The idea was to wear one sock that matched your blouse and the other sock would match your skirt. You might wear one pink sock and one brown sock. It was fun and didn't look sloppy at all.

My mother had no problem with it, the school had no problem with it but my father thought it was absolutely disgraceful. In his eyes, mis-matched socks were a sign that the family was too poor to afford a 'decent' pair.

He'd hate my style sense. If I can't find a matching pair I'll wear one of one design and one of another. Ie Green with blue heel and toe on one foot, blue with green heel and toe on the other. Mismatched socks are better than none at all.

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It is currently in the single digits where we live and my daughter really hates to wear socks. I send her to school wearing socks, and then when I pick her up she is wearing, for example, buckles with bare feet and her socks are in her pockets. I told her I expected her socks to be in her shoes from now on when I pick her up. Last week I picked her up and noticed she was wearing buckles with no socks.

Me: "DD, where are your socks???"DD: "In my shoes like you said, Mama."Me: "What?" (DD takes off buckles and sure enough, she has folded her socks into the bottom of the buckles so she has bare feet but her socks are still in her shoes like I asked of her. According to my mom, she is just like me.)

He'd hate my style sense. If I can't find a matching pair I'll wear one of one design and one of another. Ie Green with blue heel and toe on one foot, blue with green heel and toe on the other. Mismatched socks are better than none at all.

He'd have a pink fit if he met DD1. She wears mismatched socks on purpose, and they're knee high.

I was fortunate that neither of my parents gave me too much grief about what I wore. As long as what should be covered was covered it was fine. I was allowed to be my crazy, nonconformist self. The person who used to criticize clothing was my FIL. He hated that DH didn't wear a suit to work. DH, at the time, worked in a field where he was required to blend in with his surroundings. Had he been walking around the Adams Morgan section of Washington, DC wearing a suit and tie they would have thought he was a police detective!

I still remember FIL pitching a hissy fit because the actor in the car commercial was wearing a sweater and it was "unprofessional". FIL was at the height of his career in the 1950s-1970s and was an executive.

It is currently in the single digits where we live and my daughter really hates to wear socks. I send her to school wearing socks, and then when I pick her up she is wearing, for example, buckles with bare feet and her socks are in her pockets. I told her I expected her socks to be in her shoes from now on when I pick her up. Last week I picked her up and noticed she was wearing buckles with no socks.

Me: "DD, where are your socks???"DD: "In my shoes like you said, Mama."Me: "What?" (DD takes off buckles and sure enough, she has folded her socks into the bottom of the buckles so she has bare feet but her socks are still in her shoes like I asked of her. According to my mom, she is just like me.)

Ha! Clever girl. I like the way she thinks.

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Bit of background : my mother was a professional seamstress, mostly for men's clothing. She would make all our clothes, up to and including wool winter coats. The only things she did not do were furs, wedding gowns and curtains. I sometimes ended up with questionable colour combinations, her favorite being red. The women in mother's family were all on the petite, delicate side. At 164 cm (about 5 ft 5 in.) I'm the really tall one. At 12 YO, I would tower over my 18 YO cousins.

Mother never understood that I had to wear clothing a different size from her. She wore 32B bras, she would only buy me 32B bras. When I left for university, I went to a specialty shop. I got out with a 34D bra. I was almost in tears because I was so comfortable. She wore size 6 shoes, she was up in arms and insulting the saleswoman who fitted me with 7 sneakers. When I was finally free to buy my own clothing without her input (yeah for moving 1000 km away), she would comment that anything that looked that nice must have been expensive. It was not expensive, it looked nice because it was the right size and fit.

I was always careful to choose clothing that was nice and comfortable for my own children. As they grew and were more into style, I showed them how to evaluate fabric, cut, style, workmanship. There is a difference between fitted and too tight clothing. Some things can be easily nipped and tucked, others not. DD's style is different from mine but she looks good in what she chooses.

Oh, the epic battles with my mother. My mother believes that girls should be "modest". That's not necessarily a bad thing, but her version of modesty would make the Duggar family look like immodest heathens. I'm sorry, but turtlenecks in the South Florida summers Do. Not. Work. Also, I have a really long torso and very short legs. I'm 5foot8 but have to buy petite pants, to give you an idea. And gargantuan boobs. One piece swim suits simply do not work. Worse than that, they hurt. Do you have any idea how horrible it is for a girl to get a front wedgie? Now that I'm an adult, she does make a few pa comments, but generally leaves me alone. My current battle with her, however, is with my sister. She's 11. I'd like to be able to help spare her some of the pain and teasing I had to go through. I respect my mother's wish for modesty, but we've had some very long conversations about how to be both stylish and modest, and how some things, like one piece swim suits, really don't work. Thank deity that the fashion people thought up "tankinis". At least the little one doesn't have to suffer that bit of humiliation (she has a similar body type, even though we're not biologically related.)

« Last Edit: January 16, 2013, 06:29:35 PM by mmswm »

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